


Smoking Hot

by Zigane01



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Drug Abuse, M/M, Modern AU, Plot What Plot, but Arthur rescues him, had to use it though, kind of, never stopped me though, seriously I can't write a plot, so Merlin is a drug addict, so basically just some Merthur, sorry to all the Dutch people for the cliché, such creative tags, takes place in Amsterdam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-27 19:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigane01/pseuds/Zigane01
Summary: Merlin is a drug/alcohol addict who basically lost control over his life when he meets Arthur. Modern AU set in Amsterdam.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alaskawho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaskawho/gifts).



> So this basically only happened because of some stupid ideas @alaskawho and I had while editing my previous story (A Guessing Game). 
> 
> A new chapter will be posted every day.
> 
> Have fun!
> 
> (And @all the Dutch people: I'm sorry to use this cliché, but it had to be like this :D)
> 
> Trigger warning: drug abuse, alcohol abuse, minor character death

He was stumbling through a dimly lit street. The stars were out tonight, but he didn’t seem to notice them. Focus. One step, then the other. He felt like he had to puke. He rested one hand on his aching stomach and used the other to steady himself against the wall. Breathed.

It was a very cold night, he thought. He hadn’t realised it before, just now, when he could see his breath coming out foggy. It looked funny, he thought. Like a dragon’s breath. Or like he himself had been burning, his breath being the only evidence of the now burnt down fire. He liked the idea. It meant that he was the fire. Strong and independent. Fearsome, even. When you looked at it like that, fire was alive. It breathed, sucking out the oxygen. Grew, bigger. And it could be cruel. Ruining lives. Very human.

But he didn’t want to ruin anybody’s life. Didn’t want to be feared. Not really.

He just wanted to be accepted. Respected. Did you gain acceptance by being feared? Maybe. It wasn’t enough. And the _fire_ itself… It made him feel uneasy. Very, very uneasy.

Suddenly he didn’t like the idea of his breath resembling smoke anymore. Besides, if it really suggested that the fire had been put out, where would that leave him? Weak, only a lingering image of the mighty fire that had been there before. Dead, basically.

He didn’t want to be dead.

He wanted to be alive. To _feel_ alive.

He took another breath. Slowly straightened himself.

A shaky hand came up to his face, pushed his hair out of his face. His stomach still hurt. His whole body even. Breathing. In and out.

He reached into his pocket. He knew what he would find there. When he found what he was looking for, his fingers closed around it. Another breath.

He took his hand out of his pocket, raised it to his lips. He closed his eyes. Breathed in and out. Soon, he would feel better. Forget, at least for a moment. Would feel alive.

He opened his eyes again.

 _It will be okay_ , he told himself.

Then he swallowed the pill.


	2. One

“Heyyyyyyyyy!”, Merlin shouted.

“Where have you been, man? We’ve been waiting for you for hours!”, Will asked.

Around them, the lights were blinding. People were dancing and laughing. Drinks were spilled. It smelled of alcohol and sweat.

“Sorryyyyyyyy”, Merlin yelled again. He felt like he was speaking kind of slurred. Better not talk too much, then. He grinned. Everything just felt so great. He had the sudden urge to laugh, so he did.

“You got the stuff?”, Will asked, this time whispering. He was barely audible through the loud music and the voices of all the other people. So many people.

Merlin decided to play along. He leaned in closer and stage-whispered: “I got the stuff.” Then, for good measure, he winked. Couldn’t do anything wrong with that. Winking was fun. So he did it again.

“Dude, you got something in your eye?”

Did he? He rubbed it. No, didn’t feel like there was something in it.

Why were they still standing anyway? They should be dancing!

“The stuff. You said you got it. So?” Will sounded more urgent now. It probably was something important.

“Yeah. The stuff”, Merlin grinned. “Right here.” And then, he didn’t even know how he did it, he produced some sort of sachet with white stuff in it right from his pockets. Where did that come from? Must be magic. Maybe he was a sorcerer. Or a dragon! No, not a dragon. Why was he thinking about a dragon now? A dragon meant fire. He didn’t like fire. Suddenly he didn’t feel so great anymore. He frowned. Bad. The dragon was bad. Fire was bad. It made him feel bad. So thoughts about dragons must be bad. Bad, bad, bad.

“Thanks”, Will said, took the sachet and handed him some money. Merlin looked up at him.

He beamed at Will. “Thank you, that is so kind of you!”

Will muttered something, then he turned around and became one with the mass of dancing people. Merlin tucked the money into his pocket, still smiling to himself. The threatening image of the dragon was forgotten.

~

Hours later he felt worn off. The effect of the pill was almost gone. Suddenly, the world didn’t seem as bright as before. The people didn’t look as beautiful anymore.

He needed to clear his head.

So Merlin went outside, back into the freezing cold night. He shuddered. His hands felt like they were slowly dying, so he shoved them into his pockets. Where he felt a bundle of banknotes. Weird. Where did they come from? Then he remembered. Of course. There had been this deal. He ran his hand through his face. He was _so_ lucky it had been Will and not anybody else. Or he wouldn’t have seen his money. Probably wouldn’t have been left alone after he delivered the drugs. This could have ended _so_ badly.

Memories flashed in his mind. Memories of past deals that had indeed ended bad.

He didn’t want to deal with that now. Merlin took the money out of his pocket again. Will had paid him the right amount, but it wasn’t enough to live from. He had to find more customers.

He sighted. He didn’t want to deal with this. Especially not while being sober.

But he didn’t want to take yet another pill. He couldn’t afford to mess up again. So he decided to get drunk.

He went back inside.


	3. Two

His potential customer looked good, he had to admit that. Tall, blond, blue eyes. A kind of piercing gaze. And he looked like he had money.

“You seem to be looking for something”, Merlin said casually, smiling up at the man.

The man looked at him carefully. “Ik spreek geen Nederlands,” he replied, slowly.

Merlin frowned at him. “Me neither.”

Perplexed, the man blinked. “Well, you just did. Before you switched to English.”

“No I didn’t. Look, I know we’re in Amsterdam, but believe me, I don’t speak Dutch. Not a single word. Besides, this is an _English_ pub. Everyone here knows and speaks English. Why should I speak Dutch?”

“Like you said, we’re in Amsterdam. The Netherlands. _Where people usually speak Dutch._ Anyway. What did you say?”

“What?”

“When you were speaking Dutch. What did you say?”

“Again. I didn’t speak Dutch!”, Merlin protested. Then he thought about what he had said. Ah, yes. There was something he had to do. Find a customer. Focus. “I said you seemed to be looking for something.”

“Well, I am. My sister. She must be somewhere.” He looked around.

Merlin sighted. This man didn’t seem to be interested in buying anything. It was a risk, but he had to try. He needed the money.

He took a step closer, looking the man directly into his eyes. “Not someone. Some _thing_.” He said it almost conspiratorial and looked at him meaningfully.

“What?”

“Some _thing_ ”, he replied and took another small sachet out of his pocket.

“What’s that?”

“Cannabis.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Like you said, we’re in Amsterdam.”

“Yeah, but you’re a dealer. Not a shop owner. So. Illegal.”

“What are you, a cop?”, Merlin asked and slid the sachet back into his pocket. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the risk. Maybe this guy really was a cop. Off-duty. Or even undercover. Shit. He had to play it cool.

God, he was way too drunk for this. He appeared sober, he was certain of it, but his thoughts were kind of foggy. Rests of the pill had probably still lingered in his bloodstream when he had drunk the alcohol. Maybe that explained why the man thought he had spoken Dutch. Could he speak Dutch when being drunk? That was interesting. He had lived here for a few months already, sure. But he hadn’t thought he had picked up any of the language. Especially since he only hung out with English speaking people. Mostly Americans, come to think of it, not English people. How he missed his home. England. Maybe that was why he enjoyed hearing the other man talking so much. He had an upper class accent with a careful but somehow authoritative pronunciation. Could one pronounce words with authorization? Why was he thinking stuff like that again?

“I’m not.” Oh, right. Merlin had asked him a question. What was the question? He looked at him questionably.

“I’m not a cop.”

Ah, right. That had been the question. Good. So he was safe. -Ish.

He had to change the topic. Yes, he needed the money. But the man wouldn’t buy his stuff, he knew that. So he better made him forget he ever tried to sell him something.

“I’m Merlin, by the way”, he said, extending his hand. Couldn’t do anything wrong with that, right? Except now the man knew his name. It wasn’t a common name, so what if he decided to go to the police anyway?

“Arthur.” He took his hand. Shook it.

_Keep him talking. Just for a moment._

“What are you doing here, Arthur?”

“Like I said, I’m looking for my sister. We’re here for a few days, probably. Maybe weeks.”

“Vacation?”

“Kind of.”

There was more to it, that much was obvious. But that was none of his business. He would respect that. Speaking of business: he _really_ had to make some money. For a moment he thought about pickpocketing the man. Arthur.

No. He wasn’t that low yet. He would make his money in an earnest way. As far as selling drugs could be considered earnest.

“It was nice meeting you, Arthur”, he said. “But I better get going now.”

With one last look, Merlin went away. He thought hearing a soft “bye”, but wasn’t quite sure. He had probably imagined it.


	4. Three

His walk back to the AirBnB he was staying in wasn’t pleasant. He stumbled more than he was walking. He was still drunk after all. With shaking hands he put the key into the lock, turned it and went inside. Carefully, so that he wouldn’t wake anyone, he made his way to his room. He went to bed.

He didn’t sleep well. He was tossing around, trying to find a good enough position to go back to sleep. The good thing in his AirBnB was that he didn’t have to pay extra for using the water. So he drank a lot of water to minimize the headache he would certainly have the next day. When he couldn’t sleep anyway he might as well do something useful. Like drinking water.

It only led to him getting even less sleep since he had to use the bathroom several times that night.

The next morning wasn’t pleasant. He had a headache, as he had predicted. Great. He took a quick shower and went into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. Grunhilda, his landlady, was already waiting for him.

Oh no.

He forgot. How did he forget?

“Today’s my last day, right?”, he asked.

She nodded. ”I need the keys and you have to leave within the next two hours.”

Merlin repressed a groan. “I definitely can’t stay any longer?”

“I told you, dear. You can’t. My little Elena is coming over and I need the room.”

“Right. I better get packing then. Thanks for having me though. I appreciate it.”

Back in his room he stuffed the few clothes he had in his backpack. Then he went back to the kitchen, said goodbye and left the house. He didn’t know what to do now. He had stayed with the old lady since he first arrived in town. She had been kind to him and, most important, she didn’t charge him much for the room, the bathroom and food. She even let him use her washing machine. Now he was on his own again.

And he had no idea where to go.

He didn’t own a phone, so he couldn’t look up any places where he could stay. It would have been no use even if he owned one, he thought. Only a few days ago he had looked for other accommodations where he could stay, but they were all way beyond his price range. And he definitely couldn’t afford a hostel.

He was so screwed.

If only he had been able to sell that weed last night. That would have gotten him at least some money. A head start. The only money he had left was what Will had paid him. It wasn’t much. He couldn’t buy himself a room with that. But he could buy some alcohol. If he was drunk, he wouldn’t feel the cold.

He’d survive the night outside. It couldn’t be too hard. Tomorrow, he’d find something new.

~

The obvious choice for getting systematically drunk was the pub he spent most of his time in anyway. He knew the people there, he knew the language and the beer was cheap. He would have preferred going there right away, but he knew that if he started drinking now he’d be sober again long before the night. So he wandered around the city for a bit. After all, he had to find a place where he could hide his backpack. All his belongings were in there. He didn’t own much, admittedly, but it was _his_.

He knew he couldn’t enter the pub with his backpack on. They would search it. They could find his drugs. He usually hid them in his pockets. They wouldn’t search his pockets. But a backpack… a backpack was too suspicious.

He needed a hiding place.


	5. Four

The pub was already crowded when he arrived. He went straight to the bar to talk to the owner. He knew the man, he’d been there a couple of times already after all. The idea had come to him when he had finally found a place to leave his backpack. But soon it got clear to him things wouldn’t go as hoped.

“Look, I told you. I can’t give you a job. I have enough staff here and even if I didn’t: you don’t speak Dutch. Sure, most people here speak English, but I need staff who speak both languages.”

Merlin nodded, trying not to let his emotions show. “Yeah. I understand.”

Something in his mimic must have given him away because the pub owner took pity on him and gave him a drink on the house.

Well, that was something. Still, he couldn’t shake the gnawing thoughts, couldn’t even shove them to the back of his mind. It was official. He was homeless _and_ jobless. Because while looking for the perfect hiding spot – and the spot where he’d spend the night – one of his contacts had found him. And told him he was off the job. Apparently his incident with Will where he lost himself utterly and completely hadn’t stayed a secret. He wasn’t even a dealer anymore. He had blown his chances. He had nothing.

He _was_ nothing.

At least he had some of his stuff left. Not much, mostly some weed, but it was something.

If his life had finally really started falling apart, he was going to enjoy every second of the free fall.

~

He was shivering. It was so much colder than he had thought. And he wasn’t drunk enough to not feel the cold. He had thought he was, but the second he tried to sleep, he had been sober again.

He just wanted to sleep.

Hours later he was still awake. Or as awake as one could be after spending the whole night lying on cold stones, eyes wide open.

Merlin had never felt so low. His life hadn’t been as planned for a long time, but it had never been like that. So he thought about what his life had been like. Before. When he was still at home. How he missed home.

Somehow he must have fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been for a long time and he didn’t feel rested at all. The sun was just beginning to rise. It could have been beautiful. A beautiful morning in a beautiful day in a beautiful life.

He sneezed.

And again.

His throat felt hoarse. He rummaged through his backpack where he finally found his half-filled bottle of water and some bred. His last food.

He felt sticky all over his body. Hadn’t it been so cold, he’d probably wash himself in one of the canals. He felt so cold.

Merlin didn’t know what he did all day. Mostly shivering, probably. So cold. When the evening came, he dragged himself to the pub again. Maybe he could hide there somewhere and stay the night. He had to try it.

~

It was unbearable. Too many happy faces, the music was too loud. He only wanted to sleep. Or feel better, at the very least.

There was still a joint in his pocket. So he went to the bathroom, locked himself in. Lit the joint and slowly inhaled the smoke, still shivering.

Soon, he would feel better.

At least for a bit. That was all that mattered.


	6. Five

He had never felt so good. He felt like he could do anything. The weed probably hadn’t been as pure as he had thought, but what did it matter anyway?

He was feeling _great_!

“Merlin?”

He spun around, feeling like a ballet dancer. Probably looking the opposite.

“Arthur, hey!”

His smile felt so easy. Everything was great.

“Are you okay? You look sick”, Arthur asked.

Merlin’s smile deepened. “Thanks, you too!”

“No…” Arthur frowned. “I meant that literal. You look like you’re ill.”

Merlin’s smile wavered for a moment, then it was back on. “That’s not nice. Here I am, living my best life and you insult me.”

“You’re definitely not okay.”

“Shall I tell you a secret?”, Merlin asked. He waved at Arthur to come closer. His lips almost touched Arthur’s ear when he whispered: “I’m high.” Then he drew back and giggled. “High! Can you believe it? I’m at my lowest and still I’m high!” His giggle broke into hysterical laughter. It was hilarious. He was hilarious. He would’ve high-fived himself if he could have. Wait. He _could_.

So he did.

Arthur looked at him slightly concerned.

Then, after a moment: “Why are you at your lowest?”

Merlin looked at him disbelievingly. “Because I’m homeless. I have nowhere to go. I bet I could die and nobody would notice. Isn’t that great?” He laughed again. Everything was so funny.

“Are you for real?” Did he stutter? And why wasn’t Arthur having fun?

“Of course I am. I’m true to my word! Are you accusing me of lying? We only met for the second time today and you’re being pretty rude.” Merlin waggled his finger. “But”, he added “don’t worry. I’m feeling great, so you shall be forgiven.” He felt like a priest. He laughed again.

Arthur chewed on his lip. “You’re not homeless tonight.”

He couldn’t help it, but he laughed even more. Arthur was hilarious, too!

“Seriously. You’re not. You can stay at my place.”

Why was Arthur so keen on talking when he could be dancing? Like Merlin. He seriously had to loosen up a bit.

“Sure, whatever you say!”, Merlin shouted. “Come on now! Move those hips!”

Arthur looked highly uncomfortable.

 _Hilarious_.


	7. Six

He woke up in a room he had never seen before.

_Where was he?_

He looked around.The room had big windows through which the sun was shining. That was probably what had woken him up. Besides the – admittedly _really_ comfortable - bed he had slept in there wasn’t much in the room.

Next to him, he found a glass filled with water. How considerate. And how _strange_.

It was time to find out where he was.

He must have slept in his shirt and boxers. Under closer examination of his surroundings, he found his jeans and hoodie as well as his shoes next to him on the other side of the bed. So he put his clothes on and went in search of the owner of the house. And a bathroom. He really needed to use the toilet.

He found the bathroom first. For a moment he struggled with himself to figure out where he was before using the toilet, but in the end his bladder won. Physical needs were more demanding than psychological ones.

Besides, the house was _huge_.

He strolled around for what felt like hours which, in hindsight, were probably only a couple of minutes, when he met the first living being in the house. Apart from some plants. It was a dog.

“Hey, buddy!”, he said and leaned down to pet it.

“I see you’ve met Twix.”

Merlin whirled around.

“Arthur.”

So that was where he was. Arthur’s house. How’d he come here?

“He’s supposed to be a guard dog, but he prefers greeting everyone and being genuinely happy around strangers instead of being intimidating.”

The black furry creature wagged its tail.

“How’d you sleep? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m sorry”, Merlin replied. “Thanks for letting me stay and all, but how the hell did I get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No!” Terror. It was building in his body, waiting to be unleashed. Pure terror. What had happened? What had he done? _Why couldn’t he remember?_

It wasn’t the first time he couldn’t remember a previous night, but somehow this felt worse. As if he had missed something important.

“You remember being at the pub?”

“I do.”

“Coming here?”

“No.”

Arthur sighted. “After you basically told me you had nowhere to go I took you with me.”

_“What?!”_

“You didn’t seem to mind yesterday!”

“No, I… Sorry. It’s just…” Merlin ran his hand over his face. “I didn’t know I told you that. I’m sorry. And… thank you for taking pity on me. I guess.” He sounded more defensive than he had intended.

“Look, I didn’t do this out of _pity_. I didn’t even know you were telling the truth.” Now Arthur sounded angry. His posture remained relaxed, but his tone… his tone was sort of icy while his stare seemed to hold Merlin in place. It was _intense_. He couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. “All I knew was that not only did you look ill, you seemed to be going through a tough time so I offered you a place to stay.”

“And I took your offer?” Merlin couldn’t believe it. That was so not his style. He’d rather freeze to death in the cold than admit he needed help. He probably would have frozen to death if he hadn’t slept here. He probably owed Arthur. And he didn’t like the idea one bit. He wanted to be independent. Now he felt like he was in debt.

Arthur chewed on his lip. He hesitated. Then: “Yes.”

There was more to it, Merlin, was sure of it. He needed to know. But he didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. He had overstayed his welcome already.

“I should go.”

“No, please. You haven’t even eaten anything. You must be starving.”

He was. He was so hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since that slice of bread. As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. _Traitor_.

“Follow me.”

That was his chance. With Arthur having his back on Merlin, he could sneak out. Go away. Never see the man again. Forget he owed anybody anything. His feet started moving, though not as intended towards the door that led outside – wherever that door was - but following Arthur.

His whole body was a traitor.


	8. Seven

It was too much. There was so much food. Merlin didn’t even know what to think. He felt like being in one of these rich kid movies where they got everything they wanted to eat.

At least Arthur seemed kind of embarrassed when he caught Merlin’s disbelieving look.

“I know it’s a bit much…”

“Understatement of the year.”

Merlin didn’t even know why he was being so mean. He should be grateful. He still didn’t like the idea of owing anything to Arthur, but he should be taking advantage of getting a decent meal. Who knew when he’d get something to eat next. And yet, all he could do was criticizing Arthur’s lifestyle.

Arthur looked so uncomfortable. Soon though, he got himself back under control and motioned for Merlin to sit.

They sat in awkward silence for a while. Finally, Arthur grabbed something to eat, so Merlin did as well. At least now they had something to do.

When they finished – Merlin hadn’t eaten too much, he just couldn’t bring himself to take more than what he’d normally eat – they hadn’t exchanged a word.

Then Twix arrived again.

“So… uhm… I’ve been thinking”, Arthur started.

By now Merlin had been so used to the silence between them that he choked on his water, startled, and couldn’t stop coughing.

Arthur frowned.

Didn’t he have any other expressions than a frown? His expression seemed similar to how he’d looked at Merlin the previous night when he told him he had nowhere to go. _His memories were coming back._

“I’ve been thinking”, he started again. “Since you don’t have a job or a place to go, you could maybe… work for me…?”

Merlin’s coughing intensified and so did Arthur’s frown.

By now, Merlin was gasping for breath.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Work…”, another cough, “… for you?”

“Obviously.” “You realise how wrong that sounds?”

“I… No. I meant…” He stopped. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Absolutely.”

Arthur sighted, but he couldn’t hide the quick upward turn of his lips. “You’re weird, you know that? There was nothing wrong with what I said. You just wanted to make me _feel_ as if I did.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” Then Merlin got serious. “I can’t work for you.”

“Because…?”

“Because I’m not your charity case! First you pick me up from the streets to get me a warm place to sleep and food to eat, then you’re offering me a job? Me? A man you’ve met twice, first when I was trying to sell you weed and the second time when I was so high I probably didn’t even know my own name anymore?!” He had started to shout.

“Does that mean…?”

“No.” Merlin took a deep breath. “It means no.”

Mysteriously, Arthur had endured his tantrum staying very calm. Frighteningly calm. As if he was used to it. Merlin shuddered.

“May I ask why?”

“As if I didn’t just tell you.”

“I could need staff.”

“I’m not for hiring.” They stared at each other. Abruptly, Merlin stood up. “Thanks for everything. Bye.” He stormed off.

It would have been a lot more impressive had he found the door on his first try. Nevermind. All the while Arthur was only watching him thoughtfully.


	9. Eight

He didn’t even know where he was.

He had absolutely no idea.

He was standing in what looked like a park. A private park? _Seriously?_

Merlin wandered the lane, marching towards what looked like a gate. There were actual guards.

_What had he gotten himself into?_

“Hi. I want to get out. Please.” One of the guards nodded and opened the door. Merlin said his thanks and went outside. The last thing he heard was the other guard who had been listening intensely to his earpiece before, remarking: “Mr Pendragon is arriving in 10 minutes. Give word to the younger Mr Pendragon.”

Merlin turned just in time to see guard number one leaving his position, hastily going towards the house. Then the gates shut.

He stood there for a couple more minutes.

Seriously, how had he gotten himself into this? It was only when a shiny, expensive looking car rolled towards the gate when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be here anymore.

So he turned and headed in what he hoped was the right direction. He needed to find his backpack.

~

He still had no idea where he was.

When he finally asked someone for directions to the Anne Frank house – at least from there he’d find his way – he had to learn that he had a long walk ahead of himself. He smiled and thanked the person for giving him directions. As soon as he was alone again, his smile faded. He’d never make it to his stuff before nightfall. It was still winter, the sun would be setting soon and he was exhausted from wandering around all day and still somehow staying in close proximity to Arthur’s house.

It wasn’t even intentional. But now that he was here anyway… maybe he could sneak into the garden and find somewhere to stay for the night. It was better than staying on the street.

If only it weren’t for the guards.

Merlin decided he could just take a _look_ at the house again. He didn’t actually have to go _in_ there.

Except he did.

He didn’t just look. He straight up went to the guards and demanded to speak to Arthur.

_He was so pathetic._

When he was finally let in after the guards were convinced – by Arthur, no doubt – that he was authorized to get back in, he was immediately met by Arthur.

That wasn’t part of his plan. Or maybe it was. He didn’t know anymore.

“Look, before you say anything”, Merlin started, “let me just say it’s kind of your fault I’m here again since you took me here in the first place and then I lost my orientation and I don’t know how to get back to where I have to get back to and it’s getting dark and did I mention this is all your fault?”

Arthur listened to him rambling without interrupting him.

Then: “Just follow me inside. Dinner’s ready in half an hour, you can stay in the same room as before and I’ll get you some clothes. And –“ he paused for a moment. “Please take a shower first. Even though it’s not my business how you look, I’m not alone in the house anymore and some of its residents might find it… insulting were you looking anything but… cultivated.”

Merlin hadn’t looked into a mirror for quite some time, but he was sure he couldn’t look that bad.


	10. Nine

He did look that bad.

He wondered how the guards had let him in looking like that.

His hair was sticky, he was sweaty and his clothes were more than just dirty. And he was reeking.

So he gratefully took a shower and put on some fluffy looking clothes Arthur had lent him.

When he was done, Arthur was already waiting for him.

“Ready?”

Merlin nodded.

Again he followed Arthur to the dining room. Again the table seemed to be bursting with food.

“You really do live that rich guy lifestyle, huh?”, Merlin asked.

Arthur sighted, but didn’t contradict.

“So who’s joining us then?”

“Probably nobody. But there’s a slight chance you could run into my father and I didn’t want that happening with you looking like a homeless person.” Arthur glanced at him. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

Silence.

“So you live here with your father?”

“Only for the moment. And my sister, occasionally.”

“You mother…?”

Arthur tensed up. “Dead.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Did you just move here? Doesn’t look like it.” Merlin just couldn’t help himself, he had to find out more about Arthur.

“No. Why do you think that?”

“Cos you said you lived here only for the moment. That only either meant this place in general or living with your father. I think it’s the first one.”

“You’re right.”

“Care to share why?”

Arthur bit his lip. “I really don’t want to talk about my family right now, okay? My father’s here on a business trip and he thought he should bring me and my sister along.”

“Okay then.”

“Good.”

Silence stretched between them again which left Merlin to his thoughts. It wasn’t too bad here. Maybe he should’ve taken the job offer. Maybe the offer still stood. His tasks couldn’t be too bad, right?

“About that job offer…”, he began. Did he just imagine it or did Arthur look hopeful? “What kind of job would I do?”

Arthur _did_ look hopeful. “Mostly helping in the house. Cleaning the house, preparing food. Occasionally walking the dog.”

“Cleaning the whole house?”

“No. Mostly my room. Same goes for the meals.”

“So I’d be like your personal servant?” Arthur blushed. “If you want to phrase it like that…”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m in. You said I could live here, right? And get paid?”

Arthur nodded.

“Then I’m in.”

Arthur actually lightened up. “Really? That’s great!”

“One condition though.”

“I’m listening.”

“You have to drive me back to the pub. I have to gather my stuff.”

Arthur looked at him questionably. “You left your stuff at the pub?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No. But I can find my way from there.”

“I can take you to that place directly, I’m sure that’s much more convenient than walking…”

“No”, Merlin cut him off. “I’ll go there alone. That’s my condition.”

“Alright.”


End file.
